Honor Bound Pledges
by Cadid423
Summary: "My name is Percy Weasley," Percy states calmly, meeting the other man's gaze evenly. "My dad's always said Professor Dumbledore would help anyone if they asked for it. I'm hoping it's a family trait." Percy Weasley during the events of Deathly Hallows. T for language. One-shot.


Title: Honor Bound Pledges

Prompt: Written for 'HedwigBlack's Weekly Challenge – It's Complicated'

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a trademarked brand owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any material used belongs to the aforementioned parties. This material is only used in recreational purposes and I receive no monetary or material rewards from using it. Please don't sue me.

* * *

Percy Weasley is an open book. He means what he says, says what he means, and has about the cunning of a pygmy puff. He's always been bad at jokes and sarcasm, simply because he's never understood the concept of double-meanings and inferrence.

Along with his rusty sense of humor, Percy's got rather medieval ideas of allegiance and chivalry. Once he makes a decision, he feels honor bound to see it through to the end. Percy likes to think this makes him dependable and loyal.

(He never considered what would happen should two alliances cross paths)

* * *

Percy Weasley is well aware of the flaws he possesses as a natural human being.

That **doesn't** mean he wants to call attention to them by admitting he's wrong.

In his mind, he knows how ridiculous it is to continue to be estranged from his family over such a fickle (severe) matter, and on more than one occasion, Percy's stood in front of his tiny fireplace, floo powder in hand and 'The Burrow' ready to roll off the tip of his tongue, but he just can't bring himself to do it.

Half of Percy wants to beg for forgiveness.

(The other, more vindictive, half thinks he deserves this internal struggle.)

(There are many things people feel affiliated to. When it comes down to it, which one comes first?)

* * *

Bill is getting married today.

It's this thought that plays on repeat through Percy's mind throughout the work day, filling him with guilt and sorrow.

_Bill is getting married today. _

The only reason Percy is aware of this is because the dainty lavender envelope is still lying on the kitchen counter from where he dropped in shock.

At first, the red haired man thought it was an accident, that the caramel-colored owl had delivered to the wrong person, but there's no mistaking it. That's _his_ name written in fancy gold script: Percy Weasley.

The invite has come much too late for Percy to even decide what to do about it, (though the probability of him still not going is high) but Percy feels touched by the gesture. For one part, Percy hadn't even known that Bill was seeing anyone, let alone that his eldest brother was in a relationship serious enough to pop the question. And second, that Bill would even bother to send an invite makes Percy think that Bill is an even bigger person than he'd thought.

Percy hasn't felt it since his days at Hogwarts, but as he pins the creamy letter to his notice board, the aching that wells up inside him is familiar, just as it is to every one of the Weasley children.

(Homesickness is inevitable whenever family is involved.)

* * *

It's two in the morning when Percy finally arrives home. He takes three steps into his tiny flat, drops his bag with an audible thump, and falls face forward into the sofa, half exhausted beyond thought, half scared out of his wits.

'_Dear Merlin! What a night!' _Percy's been helping the Departments of Magical Law Enforcement and Magical Accidents and Catastrophes with damage control all afternoon after the state of emergency memo that went out just before 4:30.

"Code Black," is what has been playing on repeat for the past ten hours.

Code Black.

The workers at the Ministry of Magic might be overpaid and under-protected, but even they know what that means.

Rufus Scrimgeour is dead. Pius Thicknesse is set to replace him.

Percy doesn't know the man personally, but as the head of the DMLE, Percy is hopeful that the new minister will be competent.

* * *

Percy's faint hopes are dashed with the creation of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.

_Based on the newly released study by the Department of Mysteries, we at the Ministry would like to introduce the MBRC, the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. In an effort to protect the general population, we ask anyone believed to come from an all-muggle background to present themselves for evaluation…_

What complete and utter bullshit.

'_How ridiculous!_ _If people could steal magic from one another, then what excuse do they use for squibs?' _he thinks angrily, balling up the newspaper in a rare display of fury.

Even now, Percy can remember Ron's frizzy haired girlfriend, Hermione Granger: muggle-born, quick as a whip, and one of the most eager-to-learn first-years that Percy's ever had the pleasure of mentoring. The very idea that she of all people is now facing Azkaban for merely _being born _makes Percy's blood boil.

The twenty-two year old comforts himself with the fact that Hermione wouldn't be stupid enough to turn up to the Commission's 'interview'.

* * *

On September 2nd, 1997, Percy can't help but feel he's missing something.

He does a double take when he passes Reg Cattermole and Mafalda Hopkirk conversing in hushed tones by the lifts, Reg soaked from head to toe. Reg's appearance aside, this sticks out as odd because Reg and Mafalda work in different departments on separate floors, and have no real reason to be talking to one another.

Both seem extremely agitated, glancing about nervously as if expecting someone to jump out at them, averting their eyes from the gazes of passers-by.

'_I bet they've run out of parchment again,' _Percy muses as he waits for the lift._ 'The Hogwarts students should really remember that magic isn't allowed until the train has arrived in Hogsmead Station.'_

* * *

When Percy gets to work that morning, there's a letter lying in his inbox.

Not a memo, or notice, or document: a letter.

Confused, the red haired man sits heavily in his swiveling chair, reaching into his desk drawer for a letter opener.

There's no name, only a single sentence written in cramped print much too small for the amount of cheap-grade paper used.

_It's never too late._

Percy recognizes the untidy scrawl, but he refuses to call the name from where it lingers in the back of his mind, because if he knows the writer then he understands the message.

(Percy wonders what it says about the importance of his job, and the reasoning behind the decision to give him said job, if his older brother can send a hidden message about re-joining the light side in its fight against You-Know-Who without anyone noticing.)

* * *

For a long time, Percy simply ignores Charlie's letter because he just isn't equipped to deal with this right now.

He's still holding on to the desperate hope that the Ministry is still a strong hold for the light side, despite Scrimgeour's death, and the horrible prosecution of muggle-borns, and the terror and confusion that shrouds the general population.

(Sometimes… inaction can be just as harmful as action against.)

* * *

Percy does eventually manage to decide upon a course of action, because Percy's never been one to ignore what he thinks is right.

It probably comes from babysitting his younger siblings, and it's what made him such a viable candidate for Head Boy, but right now it's just a constant nag at his consciousness, reminding him again and again of Charlie's note.

His choices are extremely limited though, because despite having not spoken to anyone in his family for almost three years, Percy's got the rousing suspicion that he's being monitored the way his Father is, though probably not quite as closely. After all, Marcus Alderton was taken in just yesterday for 'conspiring with known undesirables'.

The idea comes to him in incomplete fragments, but it's a start, and that's more than he had before. With the infamous Weasley determination, Percy schedules a trip to Hogsmead for the weekend.

_("If you have any problems at school Perce, go talk to your Head of House or Professor Dumbledore. He'll help you if you need it.")_

* * *

Percy finally makes it to the Hog's Head right before closing time, just as he planned. He was very careful to make a whole day of this excursion to Hogsmead, stopping by various shops and picking up a few odds and ends so as not to raise suspicion.

He approaches the bar with hesitance, looking around at the few patrons warily.

"Are you Aberforth Dumbledore?" Percy directs towards the lone bartender.

The old man sets down the glass he'd been cleaning with loud thunk, blue eyes squinted in suspicion.

"Who's asking and why?"

"My name is Percy Weasley," Percy states calmly, meeting the other man's gaze evenly. "My dad's always said Professor Dumbledore would help anyone if they asked for it. I'm hoping it's a family trait."

* * *

Through Aberforth, Percy gains more insight into the goings on at the school than he has all year.

"And they allow that?" Percy exclaims horrified after Aberforth finishes detailing the new punishments now enforced at the school. "Surely Professor McGonagall or Flitwick would-"

Dumbledore snorts humorously, polishing dirty glasses with the bottom of his shirt. "They'd lose their jobs if they ever said anything, and those poor kids would get another Death Eater for a Professor."

Percy sits straighter, jaw set determinedly. "I want to help."

"Go home kid; there's nothing you can do."

"I want to help!" Percy insists, adding more strength in his voice.

The old man is silent, sizing Percy up with piercing blue eyes.

"You're Arthur Weasley's son?"

"Yes."

"Then one who left to work at the Ministry?"

More ashamed this time: "Yes."

"Trying to make up for it?"

"It's… complicated."

Again, the man is silent. Percy waits anxiously, as though waiting for a blow to drop.

"I can't promise anything," Aberforth starts slowly. "But I'll keep you informed."

"Thank-you."

* * *

Not long after this does Percy get the owl.

The message written is short and to the point: _Battle at Hogwarts. All or nothing. Be there._

And Percy will be.

(He's sworn to support the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately for them, Percy's already picked his side.)

(Family ties are the strongest allegiance, after all.)

* * *

Despite being related to Fred and George, Percy isn't very good at crawling through secret passages.

He hadn't expected the tunnel to end so suddenly, and much to his embarrassment, Percy falls over. He flops around a bit as he tries to regain his balance, almost falling on top of someone's feet, but he manages to pull himself up again.

"Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I - I -"

Oh shit. Seriously? It would be just his luck to run into what seems like every member of the Weasley clan.

For a while, the broken family simply stares at each other. Vaguely, Percy can see a pretty blonde girl he recognizes from a letter received last August attempting in vain to make conversation.

Karma. Lovely.

* * *

Surprisingly, Percy is the one who breaks the silence.

"I was a fool!" Percy roars, voice loud with the heart he's trying to convey through words.

"I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a – a -"

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," says Fred.

Percy swallows nervously. Would they forgive him?

"Yes, I was!"

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," says Fred, holding his hand out to Percy.

(Percy and the twins have fought in the same old tug-of-war for years: stuck in a rut, but neither giving in. However, Percy can't think of even one instance he'd consider holding a grudge over.)

(Judging by this, neither can they.)

* * *

Percy Weasley is an open book. He means what he says, says what he means, and has the cunning of a pygmy puff. He's always been bad at jokes and sarcasm, simply because he's never understood the concept of double-meanings and inferrence.

Along with his rusty sense of humor, Percy's got rather medieval ideas of allegiance and chivalry. Once he makes a decision, he feels honor bound to see it through to the end.

It's not so bad, such unwavering loyalty.

(You've just got to make sure you know which obligation comes first.)


End file.
